


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Chanukah, Christmas, Fluff, Humor, Jewish!Chekov, Jewish!Spock, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance, ksadvent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for K/S Advent 2012 for the prompt: Jim is chipper about the Enterprise having time off for the holidays.  He asks everyone if they want to spend time together.  Everyone has already made plans and splits.  He's forced to be alone and brood over his growing attraction to Mr. Spock.  Not knowing Spock has feelings for him, Jim doesn't bother asking if he wants to spend the holidays together, figuring the Vulcan has something else to do.  Something cute, something romantic, with them spending time together.<br/>Featuring: FLUFF. Schmoop. Romance. Christmas Themes.  Chanukah Themes.  Kabbalah (Jewish) Themes. Jewish!Spock. Jewish!Chekov. Angst. Humor/silliness with a 'Chia Pet'.<br/>No sex, pre-slash!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where The Heart Is

Jim couldn’t help but grin like a fool.

Bones noticed something amiss and nudged him from where he stood behind the captain’s chair. “Jim?  Everything alright?”

“Bones.” Jim held out the PADD.  “Look.”

Bones took it from him and scrunched up his face as he read the message.  His blue eyes lit up in delight.

_“Stardate:  2267.10_

_To:       James T. Kirk_

_Captain_

_USS Enterprise_

_From:  Komack_

_Admiral_

_Starfleet Command_

_ATTN:  USS Enterprise is hereby recalled to Earth/Terra for required repair work.  Please proceed immediately via warp to Earth.  Length of time necessary for repair--3 weeks.  All ships complement will be granted Earth Based Shoreleave during repair.  Skeleton crew will be provided by Earth technical services._

_Admiral Komack,_

_Starfleet Command”_

 

“We’ll... I’ll be damned!”  Bones said, bouncing his heels.  “Three weeks?  Today’s December 10th!   This is the first time we’ve had leave at home in over a year, Jim.  And this means we’re going home for Christmas and maybe New Years!”

“Shhh.” Kirk hushed him.  “Don’t jinx things.” He turned to the helm.  Mr. Sulu.  Prepare for maximum warp.”

“Course heading, Captain?”

“Earth, Mr. Sulu.  We have been assigned shoreleave for three standard weeks.”

Sulu smiled at Chekov then turned back to his controls.  “Aye, Sir!”

* * *

Kirk strode down the corridor, bottle of his best brandy in hand, softly warbling:

 

_“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,_

_Everywhere you look_

_there’s a tree in the grand hotel_

_and one in the park as well_

_A sturdy one that doesn’t mind the snow.”_

 

However, the Enterprise corridor did not look a lot like christmas, in fact it looked nothing at all like Christmas.  Most areas aboard ship were not allowed to be decorated due to regulation 324.A.  

60 percent of the crew came from a Judeo Christian Earth Background (the ‘christian’ representing many different denominations) celebrating Christmas, twenty percent were Jewish, another ten percent were Muslim and another small percentage were either non-Earth human or non-human, or Earth human of religions including Buddhism, Shinto, Shikh, Ba’hai, Hindu or considered themselves agnostic or atheist or simply celebrated an alternate celebration during December such as the solstice or Kwanzaa or Saint Lucy's Day or Bodhi Day, or Saint Nicholas Day or the Dongzhi Festival or Soyal or Yaida or Saturnalia, or Modraniht or Pancha Ganapati, or 'Twelve Days of Christmas' or Yuletide, or Boxing Day or Anastasia of Sirmium or Malkh or Boxing Day or Saint Stephen's day or Hogmanay.  

Holiday decor could be distracting in times of red alert.  But there was no regulation stopping the crew in years past from holding toned down holiday parties in the rec-rooms.  This year, however, whether they celebrated a holiday this time of year or not the crew were decidedly overjoyed at the prospect of shoreleave.

As Jim went through the double doors, he immediately caught the sounds of more Christmas tunes blasting from the CMO’s office.

The doctor sat at his desk, humming along, obviously engaged in charting.

“Not entirely regulation, Bones.”

Bones glanced up and blushed.  “Computer, off.  Sorry, Jim.”

Jim plonked the bottle of brandy onto the desk and sat down.  “I liked the music.”

Bones waved him off.  “No, no, no.  It’s fine.  You’re right, it’s not reg and I think Chapel and Burke would appreciate a little piece and quiet around here.  I think the two girls wonder what happened to their real CMO, they’re thinking I’m a changeling or something.”

“Why’s that?  Because you haven’t scowled once today?”

“Uh, huh.  What, the Chief Medical Officer can’t be HAPPY for a change?”  Bones tossed the medi-PADD aside.  “Goddamn it, I’ve been dying for a drink all day.”  He got up and fetched two glasses.  Jim poured the drinks.  Bones clinked his with Jim’s then they both took a sip.  

“Hmmm,” Jim said.

“You brought the good stuff,” Bones said, appreciatively.  

“Of course I did.  Gotta celebrate.”

“Hum,” Bones said.  “Three more days!  And we’re home!”

“Stop trying to jinx it.  What do you want me to get you for Christmas?”

“Same thing as last year.  A ‘Chia Pet’.”

“Again?”

“Yes.  I like them.”

“How about, I get you something else this year.  Something better.”

“Nope.  Chia Pet,” Bones said, like a petulant child.

Jim sighed.  “Which one?”

“The ‘Chia Gnome’.  I already have the others.”

“I know.  I bought them all for you.”

“Well, it’s what I want from you for Christmas,” McCoy huffed.  “Fine!  Then, don’t get me anything, if it’s such a goddamned problem.”

Jim rolled his eyes and changed the subject:  “Well, Bones, I never thought I’d ever see you this happy about going home for Christmas.”

“That’s not why I’m so happy,” Bones replied.

“Oh?”

“Uh uh.”

Jim took another sip.  “Why then are you so happy?”

“Because.  Not only do I get to see Joanna and my Ma, I get to spend shoreleave on Earth with somebody special.”

Jim grinned.  “You’re inviting me home with you?”

“Well...No.  Not exactly.”  Jim’s face fell at that and Bones caught it.  “I mean, Jim, you can come along if you like, but uh...you know...I uh.”  He coughed into his hand.  “Look at this.”  He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small red velvet box.  He handed it over.  

Jim opened it.  Inside was a platinum engagement style ring with a two carat diamond set high in the center.  “Ah, Bones, you shouldn’t have!” he joked.  “I love you too, but only as a friend!”

“Smart ass,” Bones sassed, but still smiling.

“How much did this thing cost?”

“None of your fucking business.  A lot!”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone.  Why is the captain is always the last to know?  Wow.  The lucky person is gonna need a hover-barrow to carry this around.”

“Yeah.  I just got her message.  I’d invited her to come home with me to meet my family.  She agreed to spend my shoreleave with me, so she’s on her way there now.  Listen Jim.  The ring is for Natira.  I’m gonna propose to her on Earth.”

Jim nearly dropped the box.  “Natira?”

Bones reached over and snatched the ring box out of Jim’s hand.  “Yeah, Jim.”  He snapped it shut and put it away safely.  “Why are you so surprised?”

“I’m not, I’m sorry.”

“See, when Spock pulled the obedience implant out of my head, that marriage ceremony became null and void.  So I thought we’d do it over again.”  Natira the Priestess of the former Yonada, now Queen and Priestess of the new Fabrini homeword had to be the most stunningly beautiful, most regal woman Kirk had ever met, and the woman...for some reason, really really was attracted to Bones.  Bones was dying at the time and fully intended to stay on that rock married to her, till Spock found that cure.

“Right.    So... I assume you two kept in contact?”

“You bet we have.  Through some hot and steamy messages,” Bones said, smirking and blushing.

Jim held up a hand to stop him.  “I don’t wanna know.”

“Yeah well, I’d like to re-marry her, Earth style, with my family present.  Well, at least I’m gonna propose to her with my family present.  I think the wedding will be months from now, maybe next year, I’m not sure, but--”

“Wait!   Natira hasn’t even said ‘yes’ yet.”

“She will.  No doubt about it.  No doubt about it.”

“What if she says ‘no’?”

“She ain’t gonna say ‘no’, Jim!  No way in hell!  Jesus Christ!”  Bones scowled.

“Nurse Chapel!”  Kirk called out.

Chapel poked her head in the doorway.  “Yes, Captain?”

“I can hereby attest that your CMO is really your CMO.  I just royally pissed him off, with minimal effort involved.”

“Oh, good.  I’m so glad.”  Chapel disappeared.

“Goddamit!” Bones hissed.  “Stop fucking around with my underlings!”

“Bones!  Bones!  Lighten up!  I’m only teasing you!  I think that’s great you’re gonna propose!”

Bones frowned, grabbing the brandy glass.  He downed the rest of it in one gulp.  

Jim quickly poured the man another.  “Bones, look, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to--”

“What if she says ‘no’!  Jesus Fucking Christ, Jim.  ‘What if she says “no”?’”  Suddenly the angry look in the blue eyes turned fearful.  “Oh my God.  What if she DOES say ‘no’?  I mean we were married once before, but she could very well say ‘no’.  Maybe her feelings for me have cooled.  What am I gonna do?!”  McCoy’s hands flew to his mouth.  “What am I gonna do?!”  

For the rest of the evening, Jim found himself trying to console the man, but not doing it very well.  “Hey, I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

“The hell it will.”

“If you marry her and she’s a queen and a priestess, what does that make you?”

“What?  The fuck you talking about, Jim?”

“Well, wouldn’t you get a title?”

“I already have a title, it’s ‘Doctor and Chief Nursery Attendant of the USS Enterprise’  Especially looking after le enfante terrible, ‘James T. Kirk’.”

“Real funny, Bones.  No really do you get a title, like: ‘Priest’?”

“Why in the name of God do you want to know?”

Jim took another drink. “I’m simply curious.  That’s all.  Just making conversation.”

“Prince Consort.  I think,” Bones finally said.

“Prince?”

“Yeah.  I guess.”

Jim couldn’t help himself.  “Prince Bones?”

Bones smacked his hand down on the desk.  “I’m gonna kick your ass, Jim.”

Jim held up his hand.  “Alright, alright, alright.  When do you plan to propose?”

“I dunno,” McCoy ground out.  “Maybe Christmas Day.”

“Isn’t that a little cliche?”

“You know what, Captain?  Get the hell out of my office!  Go play chess with that pointy eared hobgoblin!”

“Oh, come on, Bones!”

“Out, Sir!”  Bones pointed to the door with an expression of pure, heartbreaking anguish.  “Let me wallow in my pain, alone.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Jim stood up. “ Fine, Prince Bones, enjoy your misery.  I’m leaving the bottle.  Don’t get too drunk.  Computer, on!   Resume play of cheerful Christmas music!”

To the strands of  'Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time' and the vision of a growling, muttering, scowling, dagger glaring Chief Medical Officer, Jim made his exit.

* * *

As Jim strolled much more slowly back down the corridor, he remembered the whole point of going over to the CMO’s office had been to decide what to do for shoreleave.  Camping or fishing or bar crawl on the Haight.  They normally spent leave together, even the Earth ones, Jim having no family of his own anymore, to speak of, besides his nephew Peter, who was now living on Ciprus III, far from Earth and Bones' daughter off at medschool on Regula.

But no, this time Bones wanted--of course, he did--to be with his family and as well he should.  And he did have a right to spend it with Natira and propose to her.  And that would mean Jim Kirk would be a third wheel.  Of course McCoy would offer to bring him along, because McCoy would.  But Kirk had no right to be in the way.  Let Bones be happy for a change.

And Bones wasn’t the only friend of his in the universe.

  
* * *

Jim made his way down the corridor, another bottle in his hand, this time of Scotch.  No doubt the chief engineer would want to hole himself up and read technical journals for those three weeks off.  The man had proven himself seriously shore-leave-phobic.  It would be Jim's job to convince him otherwise.

The doors to Engineering swooshed open to reveal Scott at the controls closest to the door.  The man glanced up and smiled.

“Scotty!”  Jim patted him on the shoulder.  “Just the man I wanted to see!”

“Oh?”  The Chief Engineer continued manning his controls.  “To what do I owe this pleasure, Jim?”

“Just thought, I’d uh...see how you were doing.  Haven’t been by on a social call in awhile.”

“Aye.”

Jim handed him the scotch.  “This is for you.”

“Ach, the good stuff!”  Scott held it to his face and kissed it.  “Thank ye!”

“I uh...” Jim cleared his throat.  “I thought, since you and I uh...you know we don’t get get to spend much unofficial time socializing, maybe we’d get together this year for Christmas, have some delicious food and drink, get you away from those technical journals for a change!”

“Oh, no.  Not going to peek at a technical journal for shore-leave.  Not this time!  Not even a wee bit!”

“Wow, you can actually say the word ‘shoreleave’ without rancor.”

“Aye.” Scotty grinned.

Jim motioned.  “Heard you like singing.  I thought maybe we’d uh... do some drunken Christmas Caroling--”

Scotty gulped.  “Oh...uh...”

“Scotty?”

“Uh...”

“Scotty!” Kirk searched the chief engineer’s face.  “What’s wrong?”

“Uh...”

“Just spit it out man!  What’s wrong?”

“I uh...I uh...uh...have plans.”

“Plans?”

“Aye!”  Scotty breathed out, nodding.  “Aye.”

“Oh.  I see.  You’re going home to see your family in Edinburgh.”

“Yes.”

One of Scotty’s juniors suddenly running came up with an immediate engineering emergency.   Scotty looked apologetically over at Jim, then ran off with his junior, shouting commands left and right.

Kirk nodded in the man’s wake, gave a mournful glance at the bottle of scotch sitting on the shelf and exited engineering.

  
* * *

Jim entered Rec-Room A, the one reserved for officers, though he noted many unlisted present.  He of course said nothing about that and nodded at them to carry on.  He made a bee-line for Ensign Chekov.  Lieutenant Sulu stood next to him.

“Just the men I wanted to see!”  Jim said.  

“Oh,” Chekov replied.  “Is it ships business?”

“No, no, just had a question for you.”

“Can it wait, Keptin?”

“For what?”

“Till we light the candles.”  Chekov motioned towards a Menorah.  

“Oh, of course!  Of course!  My apologies.” Jim glanced around at the assembled.  For some reason Mr. Spock stood in the corner with arms folded at the back of the room.  “Happy Chanukah, everyone.”

The room replied back in kind.

“Light the candles, Mr. Chekov, by all means,” Kirk told him.  “First night?”

Chekov nodded.  Then held out the lighting implement.  “Would you do us the honor, Keptin?”

“Of course.”

He lit the shamash then used it to light the first candle, as the room sang:

 

_“Baruk atah Adonai,_

_Ehloheinu Mehlech Haolam,_

_A-sher, ki-dishanu Bemitz-vo-tav_

_Veh-tzi-va-nu Leh-had-lik Ner Chanukah”_

 

_“Baruk atah Adonai,_

_Ehloheinu Mehlech Haolam,_

_Sheh-a-sa Nee-sim La-avo-teinu_

_By-ya-min Ha-hem, Bee-z’man Ha-zeh.”_

 

_Bar-ruch a-tah adonai,_

_Ehloheinu, Mehleh Haolam,_

_Sheh-heh-cheh-ya-noo Veh-kee-yeh-ma-n_

_Veh-hee-gee a noo, Lizman Hazeh._

 

Next everyone recited something Chekov identified as the: ‘ _Haneirot Halalu_ ’.  Then a hymn called the:  _Ma'oz Tzur_ '.

Then the room broke into a party atmosphere.  Some broke away to sing more songs.  There was plenty of food, drink and sweets on decorated tables.

“Sufangiot, Keptin?”  Chekov pointed.  “Have one.  They’re delicious.”

“By all means, Mr. Chekov.” Jim helped himself to a jelly filled donut.  “I better only have one, or else Dr. McCoy won’t be too happy.”

“Dr. McCoy is never happy.”

“Well...” Kirk said, feeling a little guilty about his earlier exchange with the CMO.  

“What is it you wanted to talk to us about, Sir?” Sulu broke in.

“Oh, I thought the two of you might want to join your captain, in uh...I don’t know... maybe have dinner with me on Christmas, my treat.   Maybe we could go out for Kosher Sushi.  I know a great restaurant in San Francisco that--”

“Oh, we we would have loved to, Captain, but Pavel and I have plans for shoreleave,” Sulu said, briefly touching Chekov’s hand.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we’re going to Russia!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You can come along if you’d like,” Chekov offered, exchanging a glance with Sulu.

Jim knew he’d also be a ‘third-wheel’ there, too.  “I appreciate the offer.  But I’ll say no thanks.”  He patted Chekov and then Sulu on the shoulders.  “Be safe you two, make it back in one piece.”

He stayed for another half hour, chatting with the assembled crew, noting curiously the first officer still holding up the bulkhead with arms folded, in one corner.  He nodded politely at the Vulcan and left.

  
* * *

He’d visited Uhura, to find she also had plans, with Scotty.  Ah...

* * *

Christine Chapel and Janice Rand had plans... together.  Lieutenant Kyle had plans.  Lieutenant M’Ress was somehow managing to get home to her planet via earth.  Nurse Burke had plans.  

Every.  Member.  Of.  The. Crew. had.  Plans

Except James T. Kirk.

Now, Mr. Spock probably didn’t have plans.     

However, Jim knew the first officer would simply scoff at his very Human craving for companionship and friendship at this time of year.  Plus he found himself... feeling a sort of  physical and emotional attraction for the Vulcan.  Had been for some time. He wouldn’t quite go as far as to say he’d fallen in love...but maybe...maybe he had.  He couldn’t remember when it had started, the attraction, but it hit him like a ton of bricks, one day, suddenly, he had developed a crush.  Maybe it was a glance Spock had cast him that seemed suspiciously flirtatious, or when Spock had touched him on occasion.  Always very delicately, deliberately and sensual.  

At any rate, confessing any sort of attraction and feelings was improper and would only upset the first officer.   It became necessary to stuff those feelings down as far as they would go as Spock had never shown any inclination for him in that way and nor would he ever.  Furthermore, Spock had never shown an attraction to a male, much less anyone on board ship.

Since Jim had realized he possessed those feelings, he made certain to only engage with the Vulcan in the most professional manner.  Spock had never noticed otherwise.  

During Earth docking, the first officer most likely would consume himself with running diagnostics on board ship, calibration of the Science/Library station or performing numerous laboratory experiments.

* * *

As soon the Enterprise docked at Earth starbase VI, crew began beaming down directly to Earth in droves.  They all seemed in a big hurry to get off ship.  Jim couldn't blame them, this time.   A line formed outside each of the four transporter rooms.  The chiefs worked double time getting them all out of there.

Scotty worked the controls in transporter room A, till Jim took over and shooed the man out so he could go pack for his own leave.

Spock took over transporter room B.  Transporter room’s C and D were closed down so the chiefs stationed there could depart.

  
* * *

Soon there was no more crew to be beamed down.  Scotty and Uhura had been the last.

Jim turned around to find Mr. Spock standing behind him.  “All finished?” he asked.

“Affirmative.  Transporter room B is now offline."

“Skeleton crew all aboard?”

“Affirmative.”

“Right.  Thank you, Mr. Spock.” Jim nodded politely and walked out of the transporter room, leaving Spock standing there.

  
* * *

Jim lay on his bunk, not listening to "Jingle Bells" playing, drinking a glass of brandy.  He had a real book in his hands, not reading it, but simply idly flipping the pages, making that particular schooping sound you could only make by flipping a real book.

Suddenly the doors to his quarters swooshed open.  In an instant the Vulcan stood at the foot of his bunk.

Jim sat up hastily, spilling his brandy as he did so, nearly getting the book wet but luckily missing the paper and simply splashing out on the deck.  “Mr. Spock.”  The first officer had never been one for signaling his entrance during duty hours.  They had that kind of informal working relationship, however the Vulcan certainly hadn’t been expected.

“My apologies, Captain.”  Spock hands were clasped behind his back.  “Am I disturbing you?”

“Well, no.  You could have signaled.  You caught me a little off guard.”

“Your door was unlocked.”

“Yes but  I’m off du--Never mind.  Computer off.”  The cabin went silent.  “What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?”

“The ship is running smoothly under the Starbase VI technicians, Captain.”

“You can drop the ‘Captain’, Spock,” he said, a little more harshly than he intended as he got to his feet.   “We’re in shore-leave.  Officially.  But, thank you for the status report.”

“Jim, I thought I might have a word with you.”

“Oh?  Alright.  Just let me mop up my mess here.”  He set his drink down, dove into the head for a towel and returned, wiping up the spill.  “Would you like a drink?”   

“I would.”

Jim’s head jerked up.  “Hell has frozen over.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never known you to accept a drink of alcohol.”

“Then why do you always offer?” 

“Because, it is polite to do so.”  Jim fetched another glass, and poured a measure of brandy for the Vulcan.  Just then his desk comm beeped.  “I’d better get that, excuse me.  Kirk here.”

“ _Jim_!”  It was McCoy.

“Hi, Bones!  How’s it going?”

“ _Great!  She said ‘yes_ ’!”

“Really?  That’s wonderful.  I thought you were gonna wait till...you know.”

“ _I couldn’t wait that long.  Goddammit you got me so worked up...so I had to ask her right away_.”

“Well, that’s great Bones.  Just great!  Congratulations!  Give Natira and your family my love.”

“ _Alright, Jim!  Well, I gotta go_!”

“See ya when you get back.  Kirk out.”

He hit the button with a fist and announced to the Vulcan:  “Bones is engaged to Natira.”

“Indeed? I thought they were already married?”

“Apparently not.  That marriage was annulled due to us removing the obedience chip.  So they’re doing it over again.”  

“Ah.  I noticed a pleasant change in the doctor’s demeanor.”

Kirk nodded solemnly.  “You’re not drinking your drink.”

“I wished to wait till we could toast.”

“Well, here, I’ll make a toast.  To Bones’ happiness.” He clinked his glass with Spock.

They both sipped their respective drinks.  Spock coughed slightly.

“Too strong?”

“Hmm.  I am a bit unused to alcohol.”

“Does it have an intoxicating effect on Vulcans?”  

“Yes.  One glass of brandy will simply relax me.  Any more than that would indeed be intoxicating.  There are a number of consumables that also have a similar effect.  Such as chocolate.”

“Oh, I’d heard about that.  Kinda like an Earth feline, right?”

“Negative.  If an Earth cat consumes chocolate, it could die.  A Vulcan would simply become drunk.”

Jim took another sip.  “Right.  Well, won’t be putting any chocolate Santa’s in your stocking.  Not unless you wanted me to.”

“In my stocking?”

“One of those...” Jim glanced down at his feet.  “Silly little Earth traditions.”

“Ah.” Spock took another sip.

They fell into an awkward silence until Jim piped up:  “What was it you wished to talk to me about, Commander?”

Spock seemed surprised at the use of his title, raising an eyebrow.  “Is...everything alright, Jim?”

“Fine.  Why do you ask?”

“You have not beamed down to Earth.”

“Should I have?”

“Jim, you need the rest.”

“Thank you.  I am resting.”

“Jim, this is a very rare Earth shoreleave.  Would you not prefer to spend time with your family?”

“The only family I have is off-planet, with his...adopted parents.  My nephew.  Peter.  You’ve met him.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then.”  Jim sipped his drink.

“Are you certain that you are alright?”

“Yes,” Jim said, tightly.  “Is there anything else you wanted?”

Spock flicked a glance over at the chrono.  “Perhaps a game of chess?”

“Oh. We haven’t played in quite awhile, have we?”

“We have not.  25.34 standard days to be precise.”

“You noticed.”

“Are you, ‘interested’, as they say?”

Jim was silent for a moment, then nodded.

  
* * *

“Your game, is off,” Spock said, sitting across from Jim.  He moved his rook into position.  “Check.  Again.”

“My game is just fine, Mr. Spock.”

Spock met his eyes.  “You play as if you are distracted.”  

Jim turned away.  “Thank you for your observation, Mr. Spock.”  He moved his black knight.

Spock moved his white queen into position on QL3.  “Check.”

“Goddammit,” Jim said softly.  He moved his bishop, to block.

Spock used his queen to capture the piece.  “Checkmate.”

Jim sighed.  He reached out with a single finger and tipped over his black king.  “There.”

Spock studied the fallen king, then looked back at the captain.  “Fascinating.  It is not often that I have the opportunity to: ‘Beat the pants off of you, Jim’.”

It must have been the two glasses of brandy that made Jim snicker at that, and must have been the solitary glass of brandy to make Spock say the sexually suggestive statement in the first place, then gape at Jim in unveiled amazement, when Jim reacted to it.  ‘Beat the pants off of him’, indeed.  He wished.  God, how he wished, that Spock could beat more than just his pants off of him.  All of his clothing.  All of it, Goddamit. 

“Jim?”

“Yes, Mr. Spock?”

“The hour is late.  I have a commitment I wish to attend to.”

Jim cleared his throat.  “Yes, of course.  I don’t wish to keep you from whatever you need to do.”

He remained seated as the first officer arose.  “Goodnight, Jim.”

 

* * *

A few moments after Spock had left, Jim decided to take a stroll around the oddly quiet ship.  That normal hum one heard in the corridors was louder now with her crew gone.  The ship’s bells were turned off.  There was no vibration of impulse as she was on 'full stop'.   Nothing much to do, besides catch up on paper work.  He'd tackle that, later.  Maybe he’d go up to her observation deck and watch the stars, admire the constellations of Earth.  And do some thinking.

He passed by the nearest rec-room on his way.  Rec-room 7 was notorious for having a faulty door that did not shut all the way no matter how many times maintenance had attempted to correct the issue.  Invariably there remained about a five inch gap when the door shut.  Inside a light was on, shining through that gap.  For some reason he decided at that very last moment to walk through those doors.  As he got close they swooshed aside for him.  

He discovered Spock in there standing alone.  The science officer looked about to light a...a Chanukiah?  Spock glanced up.  “Captain.”

“Mr. Spock.  Forgive me.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You are not intruding.  In fact I welcome you to stay if you wished.”

“Please, carry on.”

He stood politely by as Spock lit the candles, first the chamash then the other eight while singing a blessing over them in a rich baritone.

“It’s beautiful,” Jim said of the candlelight.

“Indeed.”

“Mr. Spock.  In the four years I have served with you, I have never known you were Jewish.”

“I celebrate Chanukah every year, Jim.  And Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, shabbat and--”

“Yeah, I uh, never noticed. I’m sorry.  It’s my mistake.  I mean, I’ve seen you around when other Jewish crew have celebrated the holidays but I figured you were merely observing for curiosity sake.  It’s not like it’s in your file.  I had no idea there was Judaism on Vulcan.”

“There is none, not really.  My mother is Jewish, therefore I happen to be.  She educated me in the traditions and observances of Judaism.”

“And your father doesn’t mind you doing this?”

“My father is not here,” Spock said almost defiantly.  “Sarek does not celebrate Jewish holidays.  I do.  My mother does.  Sarek has historically been most uncomfortable with me participating.  I am not  _frum_ , there is no way I can be and serve aboard a starship.  However observing to the best of my ability serves as my personal act of rebellion against Sarek and to stay connected with my mother.”

Jim smiled at him.  Spock did not share like this, very often.  “Good for you, Spock.  I am glad.”

It seemed impolite to exit the rec-room while the candles were lit so Jim found himself engaging in polite small talk.  He then listened intently to Spock relay to him the miracle of Chanukah.  He’d known the story of course, but hearing Spock tell it was...exquisite, if he might say so himself.

And apparently Spock was fluent in Yiddish.  Another thing he’d had no idea about the Vulcan.  Jim’s own grandmother had spoke Yiddish, she was also Jewish.  But when his mother married his gentile dad they agreed they wouldn’t raise their children Jewish.  So Jim and his brother grew up celebrating christmas.  Till they moved to Tarsus that is.  On Tarsus, no one could celebrate anything  There was no religion on Tarsus.  It took Jim a long time to celebrate the Earth holidays again.

“Exactly how many languages do you speak, anyway, Mr. Spock?”

“Seven.  Standard Earth English, Vulcan common, Vulcan old dialect, Romulan, Yiddish, Hebrew, Latin.”

“You polyglot, you.  As much as Uhura.”

“Miss Uhura knows four more than I.”

“Of course, Mr. Spock.  Latin?”

“Yes.  I converse with Dr. McCoy quite frequently in Latin.”

“And you are fluent in Romulan?”

“Romulan is nearly identical to old Vulcan, requiring a few minor dialect variations.”

“Isn’t Latin difficult to communicate with in this day and age, being as it’s a dead language?  There’s no words to describe many modern day things.”

“We use it during dissections and science experiments.”

At that very moment, the candles had burned to the metal and extinguished.

“Is that it?” Jim asked.  “What happens when the candles are done?”

" _Gmar chatimah tovah_ , Jim."  
  
"Uh, you too.  We should play dreidel."

“We could.” Spock said, meeting Jim’s glance.  The dark eyes seemed lost, searching perhaps or sad.  

  
Jim sang:

" _I have a little dreidel,_  
 I made it out of clay.  
 And when it's dry and ready,   
 then dreidel I shall play."  
  
Spock smirked at that and Jim chuckled softly.  "Not very festive, is it? With nobody else here."

“But, you and I.”  Spock picked up the menorah and began to clean off the candle wax.

Jim watched those long fingers perform the task.  “Forgive me, Spock,  but this makes you seem almost human, this celebration of an Earth festival.  Your knowledge of Earth languages.  Embracing an Earth religion.”

Spock seemed to turn inward at that, suddenly closing himself off.  “Yes,” he whispered.  “I suppose it would give one the impression.” He straightened.  “By your leave, Captain.”

“Spock, I’m--I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“It is quite alright.” Spock turned, clutching the menorah and strode out of Rec 7.

  
* * *

The day before Christmas, affectionately known as ‘Christmas Eve’ for those who were happily spending time with their families-- Jim found himself on Earth, in the crowded shopping center, moving from store to store.  He'd already found some other holiday gifts for the rest of his senior, junior bridge officers and the crew.  All of them he liked to get a little something, whether they celebrated Christmas or not.  Merely a little token of thanks to show he cared about them and was grateful for their service on board the Enterprise.  It wasn’t regulation but it was simply something he liked to do.

He had managed to find all of the gifts on his list except the goddamned Chia Gnome.  Chia Pets had been around for approximately three-hundred years and had maintained a cult following.  He supposed he could have simply ordered one from the net and had it beamed aboard via the starbase, like he usually did.  But no, he was determined to spend at least a few days on Earth, finally, after taking care of all that paperwork (sulking) aboard ship.

So there was nothing wrong with letting off a little steam by shopping in a brick and mortar store.  It had been years since he’d had this luxury of strolling around the beautifully decorated shopping mall in Downtown San Francisco.  Traditional shopping was now back in vogue hence the huge crowds.  Santa Claus in the center of the plaza was doing brisk business, the line to sit on his lap seemingly a kilometer long.   

The stores obviously had much more limited stock than ordering an item online and he knew that, logically, as his first officer might say.  But yet here he was trying to find this elusive Chia Gnome.  It was a gnome figure in unfinished pottery.  You spread the chia seeds all over it, add water and then voila it became a green furry gnome.  A little silly.  And pricey in this day and age. Quite frankly he couldn't understand the obsession.  Well, Bones wanted his Chia pet and to marry his Natira and he deserved to have what he desired.

The stores carried a selection of every other design of Chia Pet, but everyone seemed to be out of the gnome, even Rite Aid.  Damn.  It looked as if he would be forced to buy the thing online after all. 

In one upscale shop he spotted a beautiful blue and white striped scarf and matching pair of gloves that would be perfect for Mr. Spock.  Since they had began serving together, Jim always presented the Vulcan with a small gift on his birthday and in December.  However, the scarf and gloves seemed a little more personal of an item than he usually gave, a little less utilitarian and logical.  The scarf felt exquisite to the touch, knitted out of soft, warm cashmere wool.  The more he handled the items the more he could picture it.  It would look great on Spock.  More than great.  Spock would look stunning in it.  

Spock had remained on board the Enterprise where had been busying himself with various diagnostics and calibration on the science/library computer.  When Jim informed the first officer he decided to beam down, Spock had seemed almost relieved at that.  Perhaps the Vulcan preferred the solitude.  

When Spock had stood at the controls of the transporter room, he had been cordial and polite as always.  When Jim had briefly met Spock’s eyes, however, there was even more melancholy to them. 

Spock’s eyes were extremely expressive, showing the emotions his mouth would not.  A counterpoint.  Bones‘ eyes were also very vibrant, hid nothing, like an open book.   But Spock...Spock even more so.  The dark orbs broadcasted--or Jim would swear they did-- humor, mischief, horror, a myriad of emotions.  He’d seen Spock hold a kitten in his arms, the most adorable thing he’d ever witnessed.  While petting the black furred creature with his long beautiful fingers, Spock’s eyes were full of contentment and maybe even love.  Spock would never admit to it, but he loved cats as much as cats loved Spock.   

The eyes, as they say, were a window to the soul.  But for Spock the eyes were a plate glass sliding door; a giant sheet of transparent aluminum,  a giant reflective lake of what he was feeling.  

For a moment Jim considered inviting the Vulcan along with him to shop, maybe pick out something nice for his mother.  Then maybe have some dinner together at a nice restaurant, or attend a theatre play or a seasonal concert.  Something.  He could have even worn the scarf and gloves then.  But Spock would have just begged off, found this type of thing illogical, and reminded him that he had his duties to perform.  And Jim was probably simply imagining the sadness in the Vulcan’s dark eyes.

He was most likely feeling so clingy to spock because he was simply lonely.  He missed his best friend, Bones.  That must be it.  Maybe if he’d hung out with Bones he would not be behaving so disgracefully like a lovesick puppy, every thought seemingly focused on Spock.

After standing in line for ten minutes, he thought better of purchasing the scarf and gloves.  If he was to give the Vulcan a December gift it should be more appropriate, not something silly and indicative of his attraction for him.  Where would Spock use such an item?  It was frivolous.  Illogical.  He could not bear the though of seeing those dark eyes scoffing at the gift.  

Nothing good would come from fawning over his first officer, anyway.

He got out of line.  Everyone behind him seemed happy to move up one.  He put the scarf and gloves back to where he’d found them and left the shop.

He walked through the mall, near Santa Claus again.  This time he paused and leaned on the railing to watch the proceedings.  The shopping centre’s santa had a real white beard and hair--didn’t appear to be a wig and pasted on whisker job like some mall Santas--and looked genuinely plump, not simply padded.  Tiny golden glasses sat on edge of Santa’s nose.  The elderly man was clad in the most exquisite velvet red santa costume, trimmed with beautiful white fur.  

As Jim watched, he felt jealous of those kids.  He wanted to sit on Santa’s lap, too. He remembered the last time he’d ever sat on Santa’s lap as a child was the Christmas before they’d moved to Tarsus.  It had been years since and he was now thirty five, a grown man, but he found himself wanting to stand in line, then get up there and tell the jolly old man what he, James T. Kirk wanted for Christmas.  

Santa Claus would coax him to smile for the camera, handing him a candy cane.  Then Santa would ask:  ‘ _What would you like for Christmas, young man_?’

‘ _Spock.  I want to be with Spock.  I want us to be together.  In a relationship.  That’s what I want for Christmas, Santa.  You have the power. I suggest you use it and make it happen._ ’

‘ _Ho ho ho.  I always deliver, James._ ’

‘ _I’d like to believe that, Santa_ ’

‘ _Then believe._ ’

Ridiculous.  What the hell was the matter with him?  He was fantasizing about sitting on Santa’s lap and asking for Mr. Spock for Christmas?  Was he insane?  He needed a psych exam by Bones as soon as the man returned from leave.  

Best to get the hell out of this shopping center--the whole Christmas vibe was poisoning his mind.  Affecting him like a Deltan Love Ray.  Giving him silly visions of sugarplums and romance.  Why, oh why, did he have a crush on his first officer.  It didn’t help matters one bit that he saw plenty of disgustingly happy couples holding hands, kissing. Smiling. How dare they.  He found himself wanting to stroll the mall, hand in hand with Spock.  Spock's hand would feel nice, warm, firm, tingly...  he must be cracking up.   

He would head to the nearest bar, knock back a couple of drinks, then find a hotel.  Maybe meet an equally lonely woman or young man in the bar.  Had to be somebody on Christmas eve.  Failing that, call an escort service and fuck this silly unreciprocated crush out of his system.  The Enterprise should be his only true love.  She’d never hurt him, she loved him back, he knew it.  She told him so every day.

He turned away from Santa and the happy kids and smack into the lean form of Mr. Spock.  “Oof!”

“Forgive me, Jim.”

“What the hell are you eating?” Spock was taking a bite of something sweet.  A rectangular item covered with powered sugar.  “Is that...‘Turkish Delight’?”

“It is.  Would you like some?”

“Yes. Please.”  Spock reached into his small paper bag and handed Jim a piece.  "I haven’t had Turkish Delight in... God...years.”

“It is my favorite Earth confectionary.  It reminds me of the Vulcan delicacy,  _eee’chat’e._ ”

“It doesn’t make you drunk?”

“Negative.”

“Mmmm.” Jim polished off the last of it.  “Good.”

“Would you like another?”

“No, no, no, that’s fine.  Enjoy your treat, Spock.  What brings you by?  You could have updated me via communicator.”

“I wished to...see if you had managed to locate Dr. McCoy’s Chia Pet.”

“You came down to Earth to see if I had bought Dr. McCoy's gift?  Really?”

“Affirmative.” Spock took another bite of his Turkish delight, licking some of the powdered sugar off his lips with his green tongue.  Again, it made the Vulcan look all kinds of adorable.

“To be honest, Spock, every place is out of his goddamn Chia Gnome.”

“Did you try the Chia Pet Store?”

“There’s a store that just sells Chia Pets?  You’re kidding.”

“On Cole and Haight Streets.”

Jim took one more longing look at Santa, then turned back to Spock.  “Lets go.”

* * *

Of course the Chia Pet Store in The Upper Haight would be a madhouse on Christmas Eve.  

Jim, with Spock on his heels, went up to an available clerk:  “Chia Gnome?”

She pointed. “Aisle five.”

They elbowed their way through the throng--well, Jim elbowed, and Spock merely twisted his thin frame to maneuver through the pushy rude crowd--over to the prize awaiting them.

“Oh my God, Spock.  They have one left!  The Chia Gnome.  Grab it, quick before someone else does.”

Spock bent down to pick up the Gnome on the lowest shelf.  

Then two hands that were not Spock’s suddenly snatched it away.

“Hey!” Jim said.  “That’s ours!”

“The hell it is!'' a balding, middle aged man said. ''It’s mine!  I saw it first!”

“I believe,” Spock said, “That we saw it first.”

“It’s mine!”

“It is ours, Sir,” Spock replied to the man.

“You can’t have it.  I’m getting this for my wife.”

“You’re getting your wife a chia pet?” Jim asked.  “What the hell’s the matter with you?!  She needs something romantic, like jewelry.”

“I don’t have the credits for jewelry.  It’s a Chia Pet or nothing.”

“You can get any Chia Pet you want.  This store is full of them.  A huge assortment.  Why does it have to be the Gnome?  You could get her the ‘Chia Puppy or the ‘Kitten’ perhaps.  Women love kittens and puppies.”

“I’m getting her the Gnome.  I like Gnomes.”

“Well, is it for YOU or for her?”

“Oh for her.  For her.”

“Goddammit,” Jim said.  “This Chia Pet for my Chief Medical Officer!  He has all the other ones.  He needs the Chia Gnome.”

“And that’s supposed to impress me, how?  Your boyfriend wants this Chia Pet, is that what your saying?”

“I’m not trying to impress you,'' Jim said. ''I’m trying to appeal to your generous nature.  And besides, if my CMO was my boyfriend I’d sure as hell would be buying him something more romantic than this!  Now we were here first, hand over that Chia Pet!”

“No way!  I’ll die for this Chia Gnome!”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Jim said.  “Listen.” He lowered his voice.  “I’ll give you five hundred credits, right now, for that Chia Pet.”

“Let’s see it.” Jim held up his credit chip, the man waved his reader over it.

“See it?  Yeah, that’s for you, Sir.  If you’ll kindly release that Chia Pet.”

“No," the man said.

“Oh, come on!  It’s five hundred credits!”

“I said 'no'.”

“Sir,” Spock broke in.

“Huh?”

“There is a multi-legged creature resting on your shoulder.”

“A what?”

“Here, allow me.”  Spock reached over and gave the man a nerve pinch.  The man sagged, Spock guiding him gently to the floor to a sitting position.  The man was still muttering.

“Spock,” Jim hissed.  “Somehow, I think this is terribly unethical...isn’t it?”

Spock knelt down to assist the man and gently slid out the Chia Pet out of his hands.  “Bones needs his Chia Pet,” the Vulcan said, solemnly.

“I know, but...we’re stealing the man’s Chia Pet.”

“Negative.  As we have not left the store, this is not considered theft.  We were here first.  And,” Spock reached over and pulled the credit chip out of Jim’s hands, “He will score five hundred credits.”

  
* * *

“Whew,” Jim said, clutching the handle bag with Bones’ gift inside.  “What a relief.”

Spock, clad only in his uniform, appeared to shiver slightly at the increasing cold weather as he nodded.  

“Should we go back up to the ship and get your coat?"

"Negative."  
  
"I'm surprised you didn't check the weather before beaming down.  That's unlike you."  
  
"I assure you, Jim.  I am fine."  
  
"You know, Spock, I saw just the thing for you.”

“Indeed?”  Jim now regretted putting that scarf and gloves back.  The Vulcan could have used it in this weather.

“Hey uh, how about we get us some dinner, someplace?  I know a Kosher Chinese restaurant that’s--”

_Beep Beep. Beep_.  His communicator.  He reached down, pulled it off his belt and opened it.  “Kirk here.”

“ _Jim_!”

“Bones!  Merry Christmas!  How’s everything going?”

“ _Great, Jim, just great!  Hey, guess what_?”

“What?”

“ _The wedding.  It’s tonight.  At midnight_.”

“Midnight?  That’s moving a little fast.  I though you were--”

“ _Candlelight wedding. Thought Christmas Eve would be romantic.  I need you to be here.  You’re standing up for me_.”

“Sure uh...Bones.  Give me the coordinates.”

“ _Dress uniforms, Jim.  Is that okay_?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”   Jim glanced at the coordinates popping up on his screen.  “Conyers, Georgia?”

“ _Yeah, First Baptist Church of Conyers_.”

“What about Spock?” Jim asked.

“ _I’m gonna call him aboard ship_.”

“You don’t have to.  He’s standing right next to me.”

“ _He is?  You two finally...uh..._?”

“Here, Doctor,” Spock said.  He’d reached out and pulled the communicator closer to him. His hands overtaking Jim's.  Jim felt those warm fingers up against his own.  He closed his eyes for a moment.

“ _Hiya, hobgoblin, get your ass over here.  You’re standing up for me, too._ ”

“Acknowledged.”

“ _Dress warm, it’s cold in Conyers._ ”

“Duly noted, Doctor.”

“Bones,” Jim said.  “We won’t have time to buy you a wedding gift.’

“ _You get me my Chia Gnome_?”

Jim glanced over at Spock.  He could have sworn he saw the Vulcan roll his eyes.  “Yessss,” he said.

“ _Well, then that’s alright.  My ma threw a nice wedding shower for Natira.  Got her lots of silk nighties and teddies and toys--_ ”

“Don’t want to know, Bones,” Jim said, scrunching up his face.

Bones laughed.  “ _See ya when you get here, Jim_.”

* * *

“With the powers invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Bones grinned and leaned over to kiss Natira, his beautiful bride.  The congregation broke out in huge applause.

The church was breathtakingly beautiful, decorated in holly, wreathes, poinsettia, velvet drapery and bows.  The only illumination came from candlelight, with red and green and white candles burning in the front of the church and along the sides underneath the stained glass windows.  The music came from an antique pipe organ and a boys choir up in the choir loft.  The boys sounded like angels especially during their rendition of 'Ave Maria' when Natira glided down the aisle.   There must have been 700 people here, easily, sat in the antique wooden pews.  Almost everyone from the Enterprise.  All the bridge crew and medical had showed up, Scotty and Uhura coming from Scotland and Sulu and Chekov, direct from Russia, too.  Along with--it seemed-- everybody in Conyers.  Bones had that big a family or was it the townsfolk?

Joanna was maid of honor, standing next to Natira.  She looked beautiful, too.  The spittin’ image of Dr. McCoy.

Spock, standing next to Jim, up at the front with Bones, wore a button up ‘old man’ sweater over his dress uniform, along with the striped blue and white scarf.  Before the service, in the minister’s office, Spock had offered to remove it for the wedding but Bones insisted: “Keep it on.”  So Spock had.  Bones had elbowed Jim: “You buy him that?”

“I might have.”  After they’d beamed aboard to change into their dress, he’d commed the shop, ordered it from the Enterprise and had it beamed aboard in five minutes.  A perk of being a starship captain.

“Good choice.  Warm.  Just don’t let him get too close to the candles.”

“Doctor, I am not three years old,” Spock protested.

Now Bones was smooching Natira, not a care in the Universe, cupping her face with his wedding ring glinting on his left index finger, next to his usual pinky ring.

As Jim watched them, he could have sworn he felt Spock’s fingers brushing up against his own.  He glanced down, saw nothing amiss and realized it must have been his imagination.  He really needed to get over his schoolboy crush.

  
* * *

There was an incredibly long and increasingly drunken reception--of which Bones himself stayed stone cold sober: ”Don’t want brewer’s droop on my wedding night, Jim.”

“Bones,” Jim warned.

After finally cutting their cake and the first dance, Bones took off with his new bride to spend their wedding night in some undisclosed location.

Jim took that as his own cue to call it a night.  He was tired after his long day shopping and transporting over to Conyers.  Bones’ Ma had been kind enough to book him and other Enterprise personelle that were staying over, rooms at the local sumptuous hotel.

Jim said ‘Goodnight’ to Spock, but noted the Vulcan following him out of the reception.  Of course, Spock would want to leave the festivities as well, only staying as long as he had to.  Most likely the first officer would want to beam back aboard ship.  However, Spock followed him into the hotel.  

“Spock, you’re not going back to the ship?”

“My room,” Spock held up his passkey, “is located next to yours.”

“Oh.  Well then.  Shall we?”

“By all means, Jim.”

They exited the lift, and after a short walk down a narrow hallway they arrived.  “Ah, here we are.  Number 172.  And I see 173 is right there.” Spock’s door was one foot away.  “Well, I’m gonna turn in.  Good night, Spock.  Let me know if you need anything.”

“Certainly, Jim.”  But instead of unlocking his door and heading into his own room, the Vulcan stood there rooted in spot.  

Jim met his eyes.  And in those eyes, he saw want, desire.  Those eyes seemed to say:  ‘ _Fuck me, please, Jim._ ’

Jim turned away from him, towards the door.  He waved the passkey in front of the lock.  He turned the handle of the door and opened it.  

He reached behind, grabbed Spock’s hand and pulled him into the room.

_________

end

 


End file.
